Characters
Miss Prunella Vulgaris, The Duchess of Hammer-on-Dulcimer, esteemed member of the Peonage
Juan, The Earl of Valdez, less esteemed member of the Peonage
Lemmy, noted baritone bassist & collector of blow-em-up baubles
Kid Darkthrone, not-very-noted local misanthrope, reformed
The Potato Witches of the Caucasus, pastiche weirdos who know a big secret
Stagehand, stagehand
Cashier, cashier
When we last just one last this time left our not-that-intrepid-you-remember Peonage, 'twas a not-that-jolly-you-remember jaunt to Incarceration Nation. With the traitorous FRYER BUNGY as their fixer-cum-traitor until his betrayal, the Peonage next encountered a fellow traveler, wow, that's like on two distinct levels, how this has no chance to win a Pulitzer your humble playwright will never know.
DUCHESS (angry): Now wait a goshdarn minute --
LEMMY (angrier): You wait a fuckin' minute --
KID DARKTHRONE also steps forward from the jailhouse shadows.
KID DARKTHRONE (angriest, but not as angry as Lemmy): How about you both wait a minute!
EARL (incredulous): Kid Darkthrone!
DUCHESS (flabbergasted): He's reverted back to nefarious diabolism!
KID DARKTHRONE (okay you can stop now): Nein!
EARL: See, he's working for the Iron Chancellor, just like Che, I mean, Bungy!
LEMMY: Don't know no fuckin' Bungy but Bismarck's a bloody bleedin' bastard & I aim t' burgle --
EARL: Gasp!
LEMMY: the rarest piece of war memorabilia since Arminius's fossilized wienerschnitzel --
KID DARKTHRONE: Otto's stache!
LEMMY (über-emphasizing): His fake stache. Bloke didn't start winnin' till he glued that on his fuckin' face.
EARL: You're not stealing it for yourself, you're stealing it for England!
LEMMY: Fuck off. Wouldn't gimme a work visa. No work visa, no Star-Club featurin' Motörhead, & soon, no fuckin' victories.
STAGEHAND enters. STAGEHAND holds idea bulb over DUCHESS' head.
STAGEHAND: Ouch!
DUCHESS (whispering): You're not supposed to use a real one. Jeez.
STAGEHAND & bulb exeunt.
DUCHESS: Listen up! We can join together, because two sets of meddling kids are always better than one for purloining perps. That creepy thing for you, & for us --
THE POTATO WITCHES OF THE CAUCASUS also step forward from the jailhouse shadows, also.
WITCH #1: The Fabergé Potato.
Everyone gasps except LEMMY.
WITCH #2: We see all.
WITCH #3: We know all.
LEMMY: 'cept how to avoid Polizei. Parlor trickin' chicksmumblejumblewhiskey.
WITCH #1: We are here --
WITCH #2: because you need --
WITCH #3: our help.
LEMMY: Bloody 'ell.
LEMMY sneers, but THE POTATO WITCHES, through incredible potato alchymie, shift dimensions or tear a hole in space-time or some technobabble but a mystick technobabble because that always sells to certain demographic groups your humble playwright doesn't mind selling out but he prefers the term buying in & send DUCHESS, EARL, LEMMY & KID DARKTHRONE to the refuge of an escape tunnel.
LEMMY (crawling): What the fuckin' 'ell? Why not just fly us to safetymumblejumblewhiskey.
DUCHESS (crawling): My sentiments nearly.
KID DARKTHRONE (crawling & singing): ♪ Laaaaaand of the loooooost ♫
EARL (crawling): Woo-wee-ooh-ooh. I know exactly what the witches' plan is!
DUCHESS (still crawling): How?
EARL (still crawling but now pointing): Look!
Our four still-not-intrepid heroes okay maybe LEMMY exit the tunnel & find themselves in full daylight, the awesomely imposing facade of a dime store lording over them, a German dime store because they're still in Germany. DUCHESS, EARL, & LEMMY enter whilst KID DARKTHRONE stands watch.
CASHIER (bored): Limey gonna purchasen somezing, ja?
EARL: May I have ten thousand marbles, please?
11 comments:
Serendipity. My kids' first question @ my post-procedure repast was if they found Lemmiwinksall up in there. I love my kids.
THE POTATO WITCHES OF THE CAUCASUS, yet no vodka?
These stories just get harder and harder to unnerstan.
~
them there fabrege spuds.... they come with Tiffany sour cream? check in with Tiffany and get back to me, huh!
Pulitzer?
Submit the screenplay to Spielberg and I see an Oscar!
jim, that completely rules. Verily, the power of Lemmy shall heal thy innards, amen.
if, just because Ivan and Vladimir booze up with village girls in their armor-plated mobster cars. Sheesh.
okjimm, sour cream, too many rubles for us to afford.
BB, that hack? He's more maudlin than I am, and that's scarier than Quint's growl.
That picture brings back memories of my favorite horror flick: The Prairie Dog with the Human Head.
you've transcended pyrite and gone straight to gold, homie! nicely done!
So did the happy crew all show up just in time for the opening of Berlin's new Deutsche Mark Store?
tom, it's no Night of the Lepus.
duchess, oh, the gold is probably shot through with a vein of lead and now we're gonna have lead poisoning and all my important work will be unfinished.
susan, if the house is a' rockin' with the newest Tyrolian lederhosen styles, best come a' knockin'.
Oh boy oh boy oh boy I just can't wait for the out come if this three penny opera!
Will you please sign my program?
And LOL at susan!
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